Just Eat the Cookies
by Inconstant Logic
Summary: "D'you think I'm getting old, Lars?" Celebrating Canada's 145th birthday. Rated T for swears and sheer lack of care on the author's behalf. A present for the wonderful nation of Canada, and for myself. Oneshot.


A/N: Happy Canada Day! Happy Matthew's birthday! But more important than any of those, happy birthday to ME! Yeah, that's right, my birthday is July 1st. Read it and weep. Honestly, I felt sort of ashamed in writing yet _another_ Canada Day fic, since I know there're a zillion floating around on this site. Blah. Whatever, hopefully mine's better. On an unrelated note, I watched 'Brave' today. Most adorable animated film I've seen in ages. Highly recommended.

The translations are Old Norse. The first one means 'little brother', the second one means 'brother'. Look, I got these via Google, so please, if they're wrong, just make a metal image of them being correct, and move on.

The series isn't mine, but the story sure as hell is. No taking it from me, Himaruya. Stay away.

Words: 712 (Because I can't be bothered to push myself to reach the 1000 mark)

* * *

"D'you think I'm getting old, Lars?"

Matthew gazed expectantly at his friend. Granted, he was lying upside down on his couch, and his hair was dangling in his face, obscuring his view, so there _was_ a possibility Lars hadn't noticed.

Lars made a disparaging noise, and replied, "Old? Matt, you're only 145 years old. Officially, I mean. You're a baby. Just wait until you're as old as me, _then_ you can complain." He leaned back further in the worn leather chair.

"Hmm." Mathew twisted his head to look at the handmade banner stretched across his living room.

_Happy Canada Day_.

He turned back in time to see Lars grab another cookie from the bowl on the coffee table. Matthew smirked.

"Hey. As the birthday boy, I'm entitled to the majority of the cookies. Hands off."

"Screw you," was the Dutchman's muffled reply.

Matthew sighed, letting his head smack back against the couch. His 145th birthday.

He knew he was older than that, obviously. He could remember Alfred towering over him with a terrifying frown on his face in 1812. _"Why would you want to stay under __his__ control, Mattie? Come live with me."_ He could remember watching behind bushes as the Acadians screamed at the strange men in red coats whospoke in unfamiliar tongues. If he tried hard enough, he could even remember the smoke of a fire, the security of being held in someone's arms, and the gentle voice saying, "_bróðir_".

Matthew was older than many people could even imagine. Very few knew of his ancient memories of watching the ships of Vikings drift away from his shores, and the jabs of pain he felt when watching his _brōthir_ leave him for good, abandoning him to the loneliness he'd been enveloped by for who knows how long. He had only told Lars and Miguel of these painful recollections, in whispered conversations in the dead of night. He had no intention to reveal to his family just _how_ old he was.

No matter how annoying it was to be speaking in a conference, and being interrupted midway through when everyone's awareness of him had faded, the last thing Matthew wanted was his age to become the newest piece of gossip for the nations. He _needed_ to maintain control over his life. He'd rather be ignored for the rest of his existence than be analyzed and picked apart by every nation until his life was merely a topic of conversation, with every piece of private information being exposed like a raw nerve.

Something smacked against his forehead.

Jerking slightly in surprise, Matthew brought his hand to his face, and brushed off a few cookie crumbs. He raised his head, and stared accusingly at Lars. Lars shrugged, then reached for another cookie.

"You looked unhappy. Don't think about depressing shit on your birthday. Just eat the goddamn cookies, they took ages to make."

Lars then stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Matthew mulled over the words for a minute, then grabbed a cookie. He twisted around so that he was sitting upright on the couch. He turned the cookie over, looking at the words written in red icing on it.

_Congrats, Matt_

He took a bite out of it. Brown sugar cookies, a hint of maple syrup. He looked at the cookie again, and noticed the tiny maple leaves drawn in white icing.

"Happy birthday."

Matthew raised his head, and almost inhaled the tulip petals. His violet eyes met Lars's green ones.

"You're supposed to be happy on your birthday, Matt. Take these and smile." The voice was gentler than normal, and the bouquet of red and yellow tulips was placed in Matthew's hands with care.

Matthew held the flowers with one hand, and used the other to pull Lars down onto the couch with him.

And he smiled.


End file.
